


every time we get hot (in fact, it's too much)

by orphan_account



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: D/s undertones, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 00:22:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17818280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It's the sparks erupting behind eyelids, white noise engulfing the wave of sensations.or, Freddie is needy and John takes care of him.





	every time we get hot (in fact, it's too much)

**Author's Note:**

> this is unbeta'd, yet again, so advance apologies. this is also the first time i've written any smut, so please bear with my misgivings.
> 
> this is set around the '70s. title from 'get down, make love'.

It's frantic fingers clawing, painting angry red dents on heated skin.  
  
John loves the sting of it, loves the marks Freddie leaves on his shoulder blades until they almost draw blood. He holds Freddie's waist oh so tightly, his fingers digging into his sides, bucking up his hips in quick successions. With his back on the headboard and his legs laid flat on the mattress, John supports Freddie on top of him, who's now an absolute, fucked-out mess riding deliciously on his cock.  
  
Freddie throws his head back as John's cock hits his sweet spot, whining and whispering small _uh uh uh_ 's, getting lost and sinking in the sensation. John kisses his throat, his sternum, his nipples, and the juncture between his neck and left shoulder. He sucks on Freddie's supple skin, littering dark purple marks, owning him.  
  
"Uh, daddy, _please–_ harder," Freddie moans to the ceiling, while John holds him by his back, his lips latched onto his neck.  
  
"You want it harder, baby? Want me to pound into you?" John groans into Freddie's neck, causing him to let out a high-pitched whine that rings out across the quiet of their room.  
  
John teases him more, his voice vibrating delicious tremors against Freddie's skin. "Want daddy to pull you by the hair and fuck you senseless, hm?" Freddie only moans louder at the thought, grinding his hips deeper onto John's cock. But John's having none of it.  
  
"I asked you a question, baby, you gotta fucking answer," John growls. Freddie hears a resounding crack echoing; its sting smarts on his ass, but he loves it. He almost screams like mad.  
  
"Yes, daddy, please– _uh_ ," Freddie groans, trying so hard to not drift away from his thoughts. After two more hard slaps, he finally forms a coherent sentence. "Daddy, _mmmh–_ want you to pull my hair and fuck me hard."  
  
At that, John manhandles Freddie quickly and switches their position, with Freddie lying on his stomach and his ass up in the air. John pushes his shoulders down, forcing him to bend his back and spread his legs further.  
  
John can't resist at the sight of his ass, so he spreads him even more and eats him out. Freddie breaks out a surprised shout, which gradually turns into a long, drawn-out moan. John tastes himself in him, and leaves a slobbering mess on Freddie's hole.  
  
It's the tasteful flicking of tongues; fiery flames growing and spreading by the minute like wildfire.  
  
Freddie feels his release coming close, as John revels in eating him out messily. He feels saliva and come dripping down on his inner thighs, and breathes out a high-pitched whimper as the cool air hits his afire skin. John replies with a groan, coursing vibrations through Freddie's lower back. Freddie's breath catches on his throat.  
  
Just as when he almost finally comes, John pulls out from his ass, much to Freddie's dismay. He whines disappointedly, which John slaps him for. "I've got plans for you, slut, so don't complain," he berates. Freddie silences himself by biting on his lower lip, hard enough to bleed.  
  
After several beats of quiet caresses from John and waiting for Freddie to shut up, John praises him. "That's my beautiful princess, acting so behaved." He runs his palms onto Freddie's sides. "You're my good princess, aren't you? Are you gonna be a good slut for me?"  
  
"Yes, daddy," Freddie sighs, then arches his back even more, spreading his ass again. "All for you."  
  
John spreads his cheeks open, and aligns himself again with his hole. Unlike what they did a while ago, John goes into him slowly, feeling every twinge of muscle enveloping him. Freddie's gradual clenching around him feels so fucking good; John moans and throws his head back in pleasure.  
  
"You feel so good, baby – _hmm_ – you're taking – _uh_ – daddy's cock so well," John groans. Freddie grips the bed sheets tighter, relishing how John's tearing him apart in the best of ways. He loves how fucking big John is, how he slides so good into him. He just rode him a few moments ago, but it feels like starting all over again.  
  
When he bottoms out, John spares no time in gripping Freddie's hair and building a steady rhythm with his hips. Freddie's mouth hangs open, his eyes closed shut, and his face contorted in ecstacy.  
  
John ceaselessly pounds into him, harder than he did a while back, finding Freddie's sweet spot again. He then lifts Freddie's leg with his other hand, angling his hips just so. He knows he's got it right when Freddie cries out and moans loud and long.  
  
" _Ah_ , daddy, right there – _fuck_ , ah, so good," Freddie absentmindedly shouts. John kisses his shoulder blades and whispers dirty nothings onto the shell of his ear. Freddie shivers, and he feels his climax drawing nearer.  
  
"I'm gonna come– daddy, please let me come," Freddie begs. John stands back on his knees and pulls at Freddie's hair tighter.  
  
"You're not allowed to come until I say so. Get that, bitch?" John grunts. Freddie merely whimpers, and screams when John slaps his ass again. He imagines large, red hand prints on them by tomorrow, and he's absolutely thrilled to see them.  
  
"Answer me," John commands. "Yes, sir," Freddie responds after several exhilarating beats. John then tones down his voice. "That's my good princess, so fucking pretty."  
  
It's the sparks erupting behind eyelids, white noise engulfing the wave of sensations.  
  
After a bit, John flips Freddie on his back and puts Freddie's wrists above his head. Freddie looks so perfectly debauched – he stares at him dazedly, his lips sinfully pulling him in. He kisses Freddie hungrily, etching words of love and pure desire on his mouth. John sucks hard on his tongue, catching Freddie's breathy moans.  
  
He fucks into him once again, but now with intervals in between hard thrusts. With his mouth still kissing Freddie heatedly, John swivels his hips before thrusting deeper. As they catch their breaths, Freddie feels like drowning, his vision becoming fuzzier, and his head becoming lighter. He feels he's up in the clouds; he tries to focus on John's thrusts or his tight grip on his wrists, but it's to no avail.  
  
John notices Freddie growing quieter, his whimpers reduced to barely-perceptible groans. He's going through subspace.  
  
Despite Freddie's insistence on John continuing to fuck him hard and long when he goes to subspace, John can't bring himself to do so. He supposes a part of his dominating nature urges him to go gentler on Freddie whenever it happens. For his part, he automatically gets softer in fucking Freddie, ensuring his safety as a foremost need now that he's out of himself. His release goes second; John pours his utmost focus on Freddie and his pleasure.  
  
Freddie's eyes are half-lidded, his pupils totally dilated and are focused on John. He looks at John blankly, and he's completely silent, save for his little grunts and shortened whimpers.  
  
"Hold on, baby, I'll take care of you," John assures him. He lets go of Freddie's wrists and hooks his legs on his shoulders. Freddie digs his right cheek onto the pillow, his eyebrows creased, and he lets out an airy groan.  
  
It's quick, staccato thrusts mellowing to making love, urgency dying down as sweetness takes over.  
  
John peppers kisses on Freddie's cheekbones, his chin, his temple, and his neck. He tilts Freddie's face towards him, and kisses his mouth long and deep. Hurried passion dissipates, and is replaced by tender thrusts and gentler bliss.  
  
Suddenly, Freddie gasps, and he comes untouched – he's shooting ropes of come across their chests. John knows that such a strong release can be quite painful, but Freddie's in too deep to feel it. After a few more pushes, John comes in him, burying his face into Freddie's neck. He takes in the intoxicating scent of sex, sweat, and something downright Freddie.  
  
Once they're coming down, John stands up and fetches a towel to clean the both of them. He's extra careful with Freddie's sore spots, for fear of rubbing him wrong and hurting him. John then gets their aloe from their nightstand drawer and slathers it on Freddie's bum, the latter hissing at the sudden cold sensation.

Seeing that Freddie’s still out of it, John grabs the water bottle from their nightstand and helps Freddie down a quarter of it. He lets Freddie lie down again and waits for him to get comfortable. Afterwards, John tucks them in, and caresses Freddie's face with his knuckles.  
  
He asks him, "Are you back now, love?" Freddie blinks a couple of times before his vision clears out, the bright vignette around his eyes wearing off. "Yeah, yes, I'm here, darling," he assures his boyfriend. John then kisses him chastely.  
  
"Was it good?" John whispers to his lips. Freddie rolls his eyes in reply. "Don't be daft, dear, it was fucking phenomenal!" John giggles at his faux-exasperation, and Freddie laughs along with him as well.  
  
Freddie leans forward and rests on John's chest, while John lies on his back, his right hand wrapped around his boyfriend's waist and his left hand behind his head. He runs his fingers through John's long locks, scratching gently on his scalp. They look at each other contentedly, eyes meeting and memorizing little quirks over and over.  
  
"I love you so much, Deaky," Freddie professes, meaning more weight than what is said. John draws random patterns on Freddie's hip, earnest eyes looking on fondly.  
  
"I love you too, Freddie, so fucking much," John whispers back. Freddie smiles at him serenely, and settles to sleep with his head resting on John's shoulder. After wrapping his arms around the love of his life, John drifts off, and warmth emanates from beneath the sheets.

**Author's Note:**

> this was just a spur-of-the-moment thing. i actually have some other fics planned, and i hope i post them along the way. i haven't written fics since my last post (which was around 2016), so i'm still brushing up on my writing. and! i wrote this due to the horrifying lack of bottom!freddie fics in this god-forsaken earth. people really need to get educated.
> 
> this is dedicated to [ zoe](http://www.twitter.com/maysdeaky/). hope she likes it somehow!
> 
> thank you for reading!


End file.
